Category Archives: Tirtinska

The New Normal Initiation Jive: Tirtinska

THE NEW NORMAL INITIATION JIVE

From the blast off let’s be frank. Truth? One on one, get me.
Mouths taped, wrists and ankles constrained, thought an addendum.
Mesmerizing rhythm its own brazen momentum.
Sparse scripts hammered out on an ancient Olivetti.

Coded hints tease and beckon, esoteric symbols.
Old wives’ tales whispered of “unfolding, unravelling …
attaining the third degree … levels within levels”
An underlying imagery of travelling.
Arrivers: holy vessels or incarnate devils?

Sparse scripts hammered out on an ancient Olivetti.
Mesmerizing rhythm its own brazen momentum.
Mouths taped, wrists and ankles constrained, thought an addendum.
From the blast off let’s be frank. Truth? One on one, get me.

The Writer: Tirtinska

THE WRITER

Oodled in through the swing doors his literary mind
A few steps behind his limp fedora, cheap cigar.
The tearoom loungers dressed to the nines and la-di-da
Surveyed with frank disdain, took him in, defined, declined.

Scans them back. “Red angry pustules from a dose of clap.”
Thoughts laced with meander juice. “Know what I’m doing.”
(The story teller’s stock reflex on spotting a trap.)
“I can do this … No probs. I know the way out. Chewing.”
Orders coffee, two week old doughnuts, a cheesy wrap.

Ladies discretely confer deeming themselves refined.
“A dotty old grandpa. Hardly my cup of tea, dear.
What’s he doing? Pulling out a pen and notebook. Ah!
That’s it then. All’s forgiven. And not a bad behind.”

Objection, Your Honour: Tirtinska

OBJECTION, YOUR HONOUR

Ironic liberty caps put him in the dock here.
Plus a system not quite broken but severely bent.
Climbed a sycamore entranced by the texture, the scent.
Then someone comes down the road. Too late to disappear.

This officer of the law – you see his type worldwide.
Worships petty regulations. (i.e. benighted.)
“I proceeded to caution the accused who replied …”
The constable consulted his notebook, recited
“‘Oh, the colours, the colours,’ he giggled and sighed.”

Now the magistrate’s favourite part, inducing fear.
The power to deal harshly with any miscreant.
“Something you wish to say before I pronounce judgement?”
“Beam me up, Scotty. It’s getting rather hot down here.”

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